


arms unfolding

by stormchasers



Category: Renegades - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormchasers/pseuds/stormchasers
Summary: The rooftop is almost the same as it was that day at the parade. Almost. How long ago was that? A few months? It feels like much longer.She was so close, and yet she failed. Pull the trigger, Nova. Now, if she was put in the same position again, she’s not sure what she would do.
Relationships: Nova Artino | Nightmare/Adrian Everhart | Sketch
Kudos: 16





	arms unfolding

**Author's Note:**

> so i originally posted this on tumblr before supernova came out (i'm currently @novasbi for pride month, but i'm usually @nova-artino) and anyway i'm finally uploading my fics to ao3!

The rooftop is almost the same as it was that day at the parade. Almost. How long ago was that? A few months? It feels like much longer.

She was so close, and yet she failed. _Pull the trigger, Nova._ Now, if she was put in the same position again, she’s not sure what she would do.

She pulled the trigger back at Cosmopolis Park. She killed. Not just anyone, but _Ingrid_. Who had been part of the only family she had left. Who tried to kill her. Who manipulated her throughout all those years.

Maybe she would pull the trigger. After all, what’s another death on her hands when she’s already killed family? What’s another death if it’ll avenge the deaths all those years ago?

But… she’s infiltrated the Renegades, and it hasn’t helped. She can still hear the gunshots echoing in her head, still remember holding onto that gun but not being able to fire. Ace is gone, and she’s not sure she can get him back. Sometimes she’s not sure if she wants to.

_“And if revenge does not bring you joy?”_

_“It’s not joy I’m looking for.”_

She said that to Leroy so long ago. Joy. It hasn’t brought her joy; she knows that, at least. But that doesn’t matter. Except revenge hasn’t exactly brought her what she _is_ looking for, either.

What _is_ she looking for? She doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. It’s never been about what she wants.

Would she pull the trigger, knowing what she knows now? It should be a simple answer, and yet she’s not sure. She’s now talked to Captain Chromium. Hugh Everhart. And… maybe he’s not the monster she thought he was.

Is it so impossible to believe that there might have been something else about that night? He got there late; that much she could tell from the files. What happened?

She brushes it away. It doesn’t matter now. It’s too late to do anything about it. Maybe there was a reason, or maybe there wasn’t. It doesn’t change anything.

“Would you pull the trigger, Nova?” she whispers to herself. As much as she pretends to be conflicted, she knows the answer.

_She wouldn’t._

And this is a mistake. Why was she able to kill Ingrid, but not Hugh? It doesn’t make sense.

She steps closer to the edge, looking down at the city. Do they know that everything is about to change for them? Do they know that their shining hope that kept them going (and maybe still does) in the Age of Anarchy is built on unstable foundations?

Callum showed her the way the world could be. Perhaps that world he sees is beautiful, but it’s not true.

Nova stands up and pulls her mask over her head. She has a job to do.

Unfortunately, she’s interrupted by an all-too-familiar figure. _The Sentinel._

“You again?” she asks, slipping into the usual cockiness she exhibits as Nightmare. It’s a good thing she put her mask back on.

“I know what you did,” the Sentinel says.

“What?” she responds, not entirely sure what he’s talking about. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

The Sentinel takes a step closer. Apparently, he’s not joking around today. Of course, Nova has never joked around.

“Max Everhart. A ten-year-old boy. Why did you do it? Was he just in your way? Or did you just do it to be cruel?”

Of course. The Renegades think she hurt Max. Still, it’s interesting why the Sentinel seems to be so enraged about this, when he’s apparently brutally killed Hawthorn.

“You know, I thought even the most monstrous villains had a heart. I guess I was wrong,” the Sentinel continues.

It hurts her to say it, but she has to keep up this pretense. “I don’t have to answer to you. Sometimes innocent people get hurt.” _Like Evie_. “Besides, do you really know what happened, or are you just going off of what Genissa Clark said?”

The Sentinel pauses. “How do you know that name?”

_Shoot_. She slipped up. She forgot that she wasn’t supposed to know anything more than a code name. Still, maybe this can give her an upper hand…

“I know more than you think. And I know,” she says, “that you should probably run right now.”

“Are you a Renegade spying for the Anarchists?”

Shit. She should have realized that if Adrian was wondering if Nightmare was a Renegade, other people would, too. Still, her cover’s about to be blown anyway… “You know I don’t care for labels. Renegades; Anarchists… they’re all the same to me.”

“That’s right. You betrayed your own.” She frowns, but it is true. Not just throwing Winston out of the balloon, but also Ingrid. And, if she’s being completely honest, the whole Anarchist cause, too.

“What about you? The Council denies that you’re under their orders, but…” A thought occurs to her. “Wait. How do you know Frostbite’s real name?”

“What?”

Nova stares him down. “Earlier, I said her name, and you asked me how I knew it. Really, the question is how you knew it. What are you hiding?” She takes a step closer to him, as if that will help her reveal his identity. Ugh. No bare skin, or she’d knock him out and reveal his identity in a heartbeat.

“I know more than you think,” the Sentinel says, echoing her earlier words.

“No. Really,” she says, her mind churning. “Unless… you have multiple superpowers, and they’re unrelated. It would be so easy to become a Renegade with just one of them, and go on fighting crime without rules. But… how do you have so many superpowers?” Maybe he’s like Max? But that would require a long time of absorbing those powers, and surely her own powers would start to fade now, unless maybe the suit stopped that? But in order to be a Renegade, that wouldn’t work.

The Sentinel snorts. “As if I’d tell you.”

She rolls her eyes. That’s not important. She’ll figure it out one way or another. She’s actually onto something now, she knows it. “Why are you here?”

“To stop you. What are you planning?” he says simply, with an air of righteousness.

She laughs. “You never do have a plan, do you? You’re always barging in to save people, without any idea of what you’re actually going to do. And sometimes— sometimes people don’t need saving.” She remembers the Sentinel treating her like a damsel in distress back at the library and takes a step forward.

But then again… her parents could have used help. There are people out there who are genuinely trying to help. Callum, Adrian, Danna, Ruby, and Oscar… They’re genuine. She remembers the little kid gripping onto her at the library, remembers the girl who offered her cake at Cosmopolis Park. Perhaps not all heroes will let you down in the end.

“What do you mean?” the Sentinel asks, almost sounding surprised. “Everyone needs help sometimes.”

“Maybe,” she acknowledges. “But you don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to decide who’s worth saving or not. Is it so hard to understand that Anarchists are people, too?” She doesn’t know why she’s saying this. She doesn’t know why she’s so determined to change his mind. It doesn’t change anything in the end.

Maybe she just needs someone else to understand, to see both sides. There’s too much pressure from the Anarchists and too much glorifying of the Renegades with the others. She might be a fool, but she supposes she thought that maybe her archenemy would be the closest to seeing it.

“You kill innocent people.”

“As do you,” she counters. “No one in this world is innocent. You killed Hawthorn. You hurt… you hurt Monarch.”

The Sentinel flinches.

“If you truly believe you’re on the right side, how could you do those things? And things just aren’t black and white. Is it just so inconceivable that villains might have been forced into that life, or that they have points?”

“You make your choices,” the Sentinel says. “You can’t just blame everything on other people, who are actually trying to make the world a better place.”

“But we should be free to make those choices. Everyone tries to make the world a better place, but your villains just have different ideas of that. And _no one_ should be able to take away those choices, not the Renegades, not the Council, and definitely not you.”

He starts to point his laser towards her, and she dodges and prepares to run. She shouldn’t have taken this long trying to convince her worst enemy to see what’s really going on.

“You think you’re some comic book hero, someone who can do no wrong and always wins,” she finishes off with. “What we do—” she gestures vaguely— “it’s nothing like comics.”

She’s about to make a run for it when he freezes. He steps closer, and she reaches for her gun instinctively. What is it?” she asks, unnerved by the way he’s staring at her. Or rather, at her wrist.

As he catches up to her, he doesn’t point his laser at her again. Instead, to her surprise, he grabs her wrist and turns it so that her bracelet is showing.

_Shit._

She’s been clumsy. Even as she moved her hands around, it never once occurred to her that she might reveal something if, say, her glove slipped down. Still, it shouldn’t mean anything to him. Unless…

“Where did you get this?” the Sentinel demands. He’s definitely agitated and angry now, and she’s afraid that she might be right about who he is. “What did you do to her?”

She’s not compromised yet. She can pretend she’s done something to Insomnia, to Nova McLain. It’s easy enough to fake your death, and she wouldn’t last long in the Renegades anyway. But she’s just so tired. So tired for a girl who doesn’t need to sleep. She doesn’t want to have to pretend anymore. She just wants to… she wants…

It doesn’t matter what she wants. There’s something she needs to do, has to do. But for once it would be nice to not have to lie. Besides, as the Sentinel said, you make your choices.

And she said it herself: no one should be able to take those choices away. She meant the Renegades, but it was the Anarchists, too. Everyone wants something from her, and she just wants something, _anything_ for herself.

So she stays quiet. She herself pieces together everything— the rest of the team’s shared looks when the Sentinel was brought up, the way Adrian paused when she said the word “neophyte” as Nova McLain, the way Adrian seemed to always defend the Sentinel… it’s all there. It’s always been there, and part of her always suspected. She’s been lying to herself, trying to desperately deny it.

But she waits for the Sentinel to piece it together, for the one last confirmation that it _is_ him.

And she gets it.

“Nova?” Adrian Everhart asks softly, barely a whisper, as if that won’t make it true.

She takes off her mask, aware of what she’s doing. Aware of all the consequences of this. She does it anyway.

Adrian mirrors her, his suit vanishing, replaced with his Renegades uniform. “You— you almost killed Max! You tried to kill my dad! I— how—” He shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

“You don’t,” she snaps. “You _never_ knew me. You knew Nova McLain, but you don’t know me.”

He’s still gaping at her. Honestly, she’s surprised it took this long. “Then, who— who are you really? Is your name even Nova?”

She wants to tell him. She wants to plead with him and tell him that she didn’t hurt Max, that she would never hurt Max. But she’s already done enough damage. It’s time to cut her losses.

“What I am,” she says, her voice distant to her own ears, “is _your worst nightmare_.”

She’s tired. Exhausted. But she’s been selfish enough for one night, so she points her gun at him.

“Make one move,” she says, “towards a weapon, to release your suit, to use that laser…” She switches the gun’s safety off. “I won’t miss.”

“Nova…” Adrian says.

Her hand is shaking. _Pull the trigger, Nova_. But what’s the point?

_Pull the trigger_.

She’s revealed who she is— she can’t take that back, not now. If she puts down her weapon, he’ll tranquilize her, burn her, something. He’ll reveal her to the Renegades. It’s best to cut her losses now. Let the Renegades deal with the aftermath. Pull the trigger and kill the son of two Council members. Ingrid urged her to do that before; what’s the difference now?

_Pull the trigger._

Why was she able to kill Ingrid but not Hugh Everhart? Why was she able to hold the gun steady and shoot, aiming to kill, then?

Because Ingrid tried to kill her? But she knows that Adrian will turn her in, and that’ll be the end of her. Even though part of her wants to believe that he won’t.

She puts her finger on the trigger shakily, but can’t bring herself to shoot.

_Pull the trigger._

She takes a deep breath. She means to say something brave, some threat or witty line about last words. “I didn’t hurt Max,” she blurts out instead. “I would _never_. Frostbite meant to kill me, but I dodged and it hit Max instead. She wouldn’t help him, wouldn’t chance losing her powers, but I made her come closer and give him her powers so that he might live. I would never hurt him, not ever.”

Adrian meets her eyes.

“And with your dad, I— I hesitated. I shouldn’t have, like I shouldn’t hesitate now, but I just— I just _can’t_ pull the trigger. Except that one time at Cosmopolis. The one time I was able to pull the trigger, it was _family_ I was killing.” It’s horrible, that she’s spilling all her secrets to her nemesis when he should already be dead, but it’s also… kind of nice.

Adrian finally speaks. “Are— are you… apologizing? Or… defending yourself to me? While pointing a gun at me?”

She takes another shaky breath. “I don’t know,” she admits. “This… this is how it’s always been. I’ve always been trained to be a killer. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

“What about your family?” he asks. “They died when you were six, right?”

Nova grips the gun until her knuckles turn white. Still, she just won’t quite pull the trigger. “Three gunshots,” she says, hearing them in her head. “A Roach member killed them. My dad had been supplying them. He went to the Council for protection, and he got it. He stopped making weapons. The Roaches got angry.”

Adrian looks like he wants to step towards her, but she keeps the gun pointed. She swallows, hard.

“The Renegades never came. No one did. Not one neighbor, no one passing by. Maybe if I hadn’t been so sure that the Renegades would come I could’ve saved Evie.”

She lets the tears escape, but doesn’t lower the gun. She hasn’t cried in a while.

“She was only a baby, and she still died. Why? What was the point?” Nova shakes her head. “He came for me, too. But I used my power on him. He fell to the ground, asleep, and I grabbed his gun.”

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

_Pull the trigger, Nova._

“I don’t know how long I stayed there, ready to shoot. I never did. My uncle— you know him as Ace Anarchy— he came. He killed the Roach, and took care of me.”

_Pull the trigger, Nova._

“The Renegades never came, but the Anarchists did. They’re all I have left. The Renegades failed to protect my family, and then they took away Ace, too. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Adrian whispers.

“Artino,” she says, her voice hoarse and shaky.

“What?”

“Nova Artino. That’s my real name. I’m not a McLain, not a Renegade, but an Artino. That’s who I am, and who I always will be. It’s in my blood, and I can’t be anything else.”

“Blood doesn’t define you,” he tells her, and she wants to believe it.

“What would you know about that? You’re a Renegade, through and through.”

“I’m as much of an Everhart and a Westwood as I am a Rawles,” he points out. “And,” he adds with a laugh, “I’m not exactly a rule follower.”

“Why are you trying to convince me I can change?” she asks.

“Well, first of all, you are pointing a gun at me,” he says. “But also, I do believe you can change. You’re not as far gone as you think.”

She smiles at him sadly. “Aren’t I?”

“Also, I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said about the Renegades and Ace and everything. You do have points.”

She wipes away the tears, still holding on to the gun. “I know I said that the Renegades shouldn’t have the power to take away people’s choices,” she admits, “but I’ve never had much of a choice as an Anarchist, either.”

Adrian looks at her sadly, and she thinks that maybe it doesn’t have to be as complicated as she thinks it is. “This is your choice,” he says. “I won’t take that away from you. But you have to trust. Not everyone in the world is going to let you down.”

She closes her eyes. _Trust_. “I wouldn’t know how to start.”

“Somewhere,” Adrian says.

She lowers her gun and takes a small step towards him. He doesn’t attack.

_Somewhere_.

Nova Artino slowly closes the distance between them and takes the hand of her worst enemy.

She doesn’t use her power on him. He doesn’t stun her. For once, they just look like two people on a roof, not people on opposite sides of a war. And… it seems an awful lot like _peace_.

It’s a start.


End file.
